There were
no men in sight; every man in the neighbourhood was at the races on New
Year's day.
He found himself in a paddock where rough ground, thickly strewn with
fallen timber, sloped down abruptly to a creek. Checking Shannon, he
rode more steadily down to the water, and trotted along the bank for
a hundred yards, looking for a good place to ford--the banks shelved
abruptly down, and the water was unusually deep. But the only promising
fords were too thickly snagged to be tempting; and presently, with a
shrug, Wally gave up the quest, and choosing a place where the fall of
the bank was a shade less abrupt, he put the horse at it.
Shannon hesitated, drawing back. Water was the one thing to which he had
not been schooled on Billabong, and this place was mysterious and deep.
But Wally's hand was firm, and he spoke sharply--so that the chestnut
repented of the error of his ways, and plunged obediently downwards.
The bank gave under them, and they slithered down among its remnants and
landed in the water with a profound splash, almost hidden for a moment
by the spray that drenched Wally's thin silk coat and shirt. Shannon
floundered violently, and nearly lost his footing--and then, deciding
that this was an excellent entertainment on a hot day, he thrust his
thirsty nose into the water. Wally checked him after one mouthful.
"I'm sorry, old chap," he said regretfully.
Pages:
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281